


The trouble with psychic links

by zort



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bittersweet, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zort/pseuds/zort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Sid fucks up enough to involve the whole band...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The trouble with psychic links

  
Not looking back because he could see his shadow in the projection of the lights in front of him, Sid forced himself to run faster. He was already panting hard and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long but the Camero was closing in on him and he needed as much extra room to manoeuvre his next escape attempt as possible.

It came in the shape of a side road on his left, one of those back alleys that were so small, most drivers wouldn't dare get in. Of course the driver of this particular car would most likely not hesitate, but it was worth the try.

He turned at the very last second, scraping his right shoulder on the wall. He winced in pain and sent a silent apology to Chris back in the tour bus.

There was a loud screech of tires and a nasty sound of metal against brickwork. He didn't look back. The headlights were projecting his shadow again and allowed him to see what he'd been hoping for: the alley was blocked by one of those metallic gates, there were also boxes and big metal bins on either side.

Smirking at how much more difficult it would make things for Joey, he jumped on the first box, gathering momentum as Joey was already moving the boxes out of the way. He could see the most convenient bin for his jump slowly slide to a more awkward position, trust the little guy to be efficient.

It didn't deter him though and, with a low grunt of exertion, he forced his legs to move once more and took off. He landed gracelessly, top half of his body clinging desperately to the top of the barrier. Pain shot through his shoulders but he ignored it and scrambled up, pulling himself up the last few inches to topple over the other side.

He wasn't entirely sure how he managed to land on his feet but he didn't stop to wonder and took off again, listening with a satisfied grin to the way the Clown was honking the Camero's horn behind him.

He wasn't safe though. He had about an hour and a half to go until he would be and he knew the Clown and the rules well enough not to assume he had stopped his band mates for any significant amount of time.

Nevertheless he did slow down. He needed to breath and his legs were desperately pleading for a break. He was already aching all over and he'd only been at it for a little over thirty minutes. He hoped Chris wouldn't feel it too much.

He turned left into another wider road and crossed immediately. He then counted three side streets and stood at the intersection thinking hard about himself running down that particular alley before crossing again and tracing back his steps to actually turn left in the second street. Depending on what Joey would tell Shawn, this could be a neat trick or totally useless.

There was a back street turning right off the middle of the one he was in and he took it, one ear listening for the Camero's revving engine.

  
"He's lost them… for the time being at least." Chris announced, rubbing his right shoulder absent-mindedly.

There was a concert of cheers and swearing, then the bus settled down again and more beers were passed around. Craig quietly asked who would be interested in revising his bet, there were more interested answers this time than when the chase had started off. In spite of all that had led them into this situation, Chris could feel them all getting excited.

Shrugging, he grabbed a beer and took a few long gulps. He felt almost out of breath and, even though it was only normal, it was still annoying.

Paul dropped next to him and put a sympathetic hand on his thigh. Chris gave him an inquisitive look.

"And the others?"

Nodding silently, Chris shifted his focus and was instantaneously overtaken by blind rage. With a low growl, he threw his still mostly full beer at the opposite wall, shattering it over Mick's head.

"Watch it, fucker!"

It was essentially good natured but Chris replied with an angry _Fuck off!_ that drew all eyes on him again. He didn't notice though, busy as he was, struggling with rage.

Paul's hand patted his thigh gently. "Shawn?"

Chris managed to nod rather than hurl an insult at his friend. Paul nodded bavck and turned to the others. "Seems like the punk has decided to make things interesting, Shawn's a little annoyed right now."

"Yeah, make that fucking livid!" Corey chimed in, before pointing his chin to Chris and asking: "Is he gonna be ok?"

Paul replied with a reassuring look and another pat on Chris's thigh, which Chris ruined by shoving his hand away and snarling "Just get me another fucking beer and let me deal with the rest!"

  
It had been sheer bad luck, Sid thought, that he would end up having to retrace his steps. That and Joey. Because there was no way the Clown could have been so close behind if not for the drummer's telepathy.

He hated feeling like the proverbial deer caught in headlights but that was exactly how he felt as the Camero slowly drove closer to him, forcing him to back up until he felt the solid wall behind him. He'd considered surprising the Clown: taking off towards the car, climbing over it and escaping that way, but he knew Joey wouldn't let him get through with it.

Pressing himself further into the wall, he reflected that it was unfair that some people got telepathy and telekinesis while others were stuck with merely being good with machines.

As he couldn't back off anymore, he was left with wondering in morbid curiosity whether the Clown would crush his legs with the car or if he'd rather do it with his bare hands.

The car stopped moving, with a few metres still between it and Sid who couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of relief. It was stupid and he knew he was most probably going to regret it, but he figured anything that would let him walk back in the bus on his own legs couldn't be so bad.

Maybe Shawn had taken Chris into account after all. That was one of the band's oddest thing, how exactly the big man managed to make things up to his fellow percussionist every time something went sour. Come to think of it, it was most likely due to Chris's special brand of telepathy.

The car's engine stopped, jerking him out of his thoughts. The headlights remained though, pinning him to the wall still, like a big butterfly in a collector's display and he felt a complex mix of emotions make their way down his spine.

His heart was already beating too fast, but it still insisted on beating harder. The Clown got out of the car perfectly synchronised with Joey. And, biting his lip in useless worry, Sid vowed fervently that he would never again listen to the funny voices when they told him feeding acid to a telepath was a good idea.

It had been interesting all right, but it hadn't been worth the rush to the hospital to make sure Joey's and Chris's minds wouldn't shatter under the overload. It hadn't been worth the trial the Clown had insisted on putting up afterwards, and certainly not the current chase Craig's sick mind had come up with. Then again he guessed they couldn't risk having Chris go crazy again at the normal punishment, which was a pity because he thought he would have been good at handling telepathy on acid.

The Clown and Joey were standing in the headlights in front of him like a mismatched pair of executioners. He expected them to say something, read some sort of sentence declaration, he knew the Clown loved making shows. But they simply stood behind the lights, silently, faces obscured by the shadows. It was a lot creepier than anything they could have said.

He tried to swallow around the knot in his throat, and shifted uneasily against the wall. His stomach was twisting around a mixture of fear and other things he had trouble identifying. He wished he could hear Shawn's voice, but he knew he didn't deserve it.

Admittedly Sid wasn't too proud of himself about the whole mess, but he couldn't help resenting how the Clown was making him feel.

Eventually the Clown moved closer to him, reminding Sid just how intimidating the man could be. He flinched when the Clown lifted his fist and couldn't catch the soft yelp that escaped his lips when the fist connected with the side of his face. Shawn hadn't used his full strength though and Sid hoped he wouldn't, his jaw was already throbbing. He was lucky nothing had broken.

He didn't have much more time for self-analysis because the Clown's other fist caught him in the ribs and he doubled over, unable to make a sound as it effectively winded him. The next blow brought him to his knees and he closed his eyes praying silently that Shawn would be able to stop the Clown when the time would come.

The pain burnt bright. It wasn't the blows, it was the fact that Shawn was giving them. Even though he knew he deserved them, it still hurt.

  
Chris let out a sort of breathless whimper and doubled over. Next to him, James had replaced Paul and put his large hand on Chris's shoulder, in a silent, comforting gesture.

All around the room, the band had finished paying off their bets and were watching Chris with concern. It had been easy during the chase to act like everything was normal, but now that Shawn and Joey had effectively caught Sid the reality of the situation was unavoidable.

Chris whimpered louder and James pulled him into a tight embrace. Chris's fingers curled into his shirt and refused to let go. It was even worse than a normal beating as he couldn't see where the next blow would come from, or more accurately he knew that no matter what he did there was simply no escape from it.

The worry Chris was getting from most of the others, combined with the Clown's anger, weren't doing anything to help the way he felt. Things kept flashing through his mind, like the mixed up, unfitting pieces of too many puzzles. It wasn't painful, except where Sid was concerned, but it was making him queasy.

He buried his face deeper into James's shirt and tried to ground himself into the calm radiating from the guitarist. As usual it kept evading him. A vicious blow to the stomach made him groan and lose his focus. As close as James was to him, the strength of Sid's sensations remained predominant.

Squeezing his eyes, he focused on breathing as his band mates' feelings flashed through him again, turning his world into a mad kaleidoscope again. His stomach gave a warning lurch and he prayed that Shawn would stop soon.

  
Sid didn't know how long he'd been passed out. He supposed he'd be able to get an idea depending on where he was. Cracking an eye open, all he could see was the starless, orange of the city night sky. That ruled out his bunk then.

Moving his head to the side, he had to squeeze his eyes shut as pain and dizziness rushed through him. It took him a few long seconds to settle the pounding in his head, and when he opened his eyes again the Clown was standing in front of him, watching him intently. Unsure of how things were standing between them, Sid just stared back at the percussionist.

His head was still hurting too much for any active thinking, beyond working out where he was. Given their respective heights, he was probably lying on something, something hard and metallic actually, and vaguely warm. His feet were dangling off, and he could see some red out of the corner of his eye. Eventually it clicked that he had to be on the Camero's hood.

The Clown didn't move and it was getting really unnerving.

Sid shivered, a bolt of a familiar mix of emotions shooting through him towards his groin. He didn't want the beating to continue, he didn't want the Clown to think he didn't get it. He understood what he'd done was wrong and he really, really wouldn't do it again. But at the same time, he really, really wanted Shawn to get closer and touch him again.

Before his thoughts could get completely out of control, his eyes locked into Joey's quiet gaze. There was nothing as clear as a sentence, or even a word, but the deep current of soothing comfort let him relax in the knowledge that he was forgiven. At least now he could attend to more pressing matters

The pain slowly subsided from his head and his whole body. He suspected Joey was only doing it for Chris but he was grateful nonetheless.

Sensing movement over him, he focused up and, once more, couldn't help the surge of fear, mixed in excitement when he saw the Clown leaning over him. Then, from the mosaic of emotions in those blue eyes, he realised it was Shawn and reached up to pull the big guy down closer.

In spite of Joey's quiet grunt, he didn't stop and pushed his lips against Shawn's, wasting no time to deepen the kiss. If the percussionist was surprised by the sudden move, he didn't show it, nor did he pull away, which was a pretty normal reaction as far as Sid was concerned.

What surprised him though was that Joey wasn't loudly telling them to knock it off. Not that it would have stopped them, not when Shawn was sucking on his tongue like he was, not when there was a big hand snaking its way under his shirt, not when he was already so hard it hurt.

But there came a second surprise in the shape of Shawn pulling away to moan, even though Sid was pretty sure he hadn't done anything to get that reaction. Looking behind the big percussionist, he realised that Joey wasn't so revolted anymore. For a second, Sid tried to pinpoint what was wrong with this situation, but it was too hot and he had trouble thinking straight.

Mesmerized, he watched two small hands make their way around Shawn's waist, then open his pants expertly. He couldn't shake the uneasiness, until he saw Joey's eyes. They were glazed in lust and had that unfocused edge Chris's eyes got when he was overwhelmed by someone else's sensations.

As Shawn started to suck on his earlobe, Sid shivered and moaned feeling hornier simply from knowing what they were doing to Joey. Shawn moved down, licking and nipping at his neck, his hands pushing his shirt up until there was nothing else he could do but help him get the garment off.

Half lost in the maze of sensation Shawn was drawing on him, Sid would have missed the low gasp if it hadn't vibrated against his chest. Arching up, he discovered Joey hadn't remained idle., Shawn was naked from the waist down, hard and oozing pre-come on the drummer's slender fingers.

The shot of arousal that spread through him, felt like electricity, crackled as wildly as 20.000 volts, almost painful. He screamed breathlessly, as if his throat was just too dry to be of any use. And it really was too dry

Shawn's hips were rocking along to Joey's ministrations and Sid wanted to either wrap his own hand around Shawn's cock or to make sure Joey was grinding against his ass properly.

The thoughts were both so enticing he just couldn't decide for one. In the end he didn't have to, as something unbearably hot suddenly engulfed his cock, his hands found their natural place within the tangle web of Shawn's hair and he dissolved into the wave of sensations.

  
The bus was all quiet now. After making sure that the Clown was done with Sid and that Chris was safe, the band had scattered, getting on to whatever they did to pass the time in the bus. There was only James left with Chris, because it had been his turn to take care of the percussionist and because he generally took that duty very seriously.

Chris was huddled against him on the bathroom's floor after he'd been sick for the third time. James was fairly sure it was all over, but it didn't mean that Chris was back to normal. In fact, in the past five minutes, he had felt the somewhat smaller guy quiver slightly and he was getting worried now that the Clown hadn't finished like they'd all assumed. Joey was too far to hear him, but maybe one of them had had the good sense to take his cell phone.

As James tried to trace his own cell phone, Chris moaned and writhed in a way he recognized.

A relieved grin spread on his face as he pulled Chris closer to him. Fleetingly he wondered whether to call Craig, because it was his turn next, but then again this part was probably is favourite part. Then Chris turned and started kissing and nibbling feverishly on the side of his neck and the question disappeared.

Chris's hands tore at his tee-shirt, laboured breath resounded in his ear between two teasing nips, hips rocked more or less against his, and James found himself taking off his own shirt. He wished he knew what Sid and Shawn were doing exactly, maybe to anticipate Chris's next brutal shift in position, but mostly to enjoy further the way Chris just couldn't find his breath.

From experience, James knew better than to try and get Chris to cooperate, he'd be lucky if what was going on his head didn't suddenly make him lock up in the most awkward position.

Besides, he knew he'd better be fast because one of the side-effects of Chris's special brand of empathy only happened when he was turned on. With a victorious grunt he got rid of Chris's tee-shirt and managed to open his trademark low slung shorts just before he got caught in the first flash.

Writhing at the sudden amount of lust in his body and mind, James stubbornly forced himself to keep rearranging himself around Chris, until he had the percussionist's back pressed to his chest and the shorts halfway down his thighs had been joined by his boxers.

From that moment on, he wasn't sure what he did, what he felt, and what came from Chris and their band mates in their heads. He could feel someone rocking relentlessly against his clothed groin, fingers around his erection, a warm cock in his mouth, his hips rocking into something wonderfully warm and desire relentlessly going through him, washing him like a tidal wave.

James paused momentarily as he realised he could feel three people along with Chris. Joey was there, his telepathy was making things clearer but more difficult to follow. Everything was stronger, multiplied, more precise but impossible to process, unbearably hot.

James lost himself again in the tangled web of their lust and bit down on the first patch of flesh he found, muffling the loud moans that refused to stay in. Pain flowered in his shoulder, doing nothing to help silence him.

There were hands, teeth, mouths, fingers, all over his skin. His own hands were around, over, inside, gripping, stroking, fucking. He couldn't keep up. His mind was swelling up with his arousal until suddenly it shattered in a million tiny pieces and he didn't know if he was screaming, biting, out of breath or over the edge.

Everything disappeared.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his own skin, still wrapped around Chris, both of them breathing almost quietly. For a few minutes, he savoured the afterglow.

He knew they would need to clean up soon enough, but he liked holding Chris like that. It was one of the few moments the percussionist wouldn't be half caught into someone else's feelings and James really liked that, really liked the guy.

"Doin'it again…"

The low voice shattered his reverie and if it hadn't been for the low chuckle that followed he might have mistaken it for blame.

"You know me…"

Chris didn't answer, instead he burrowed himself deeper into the embrace and James knew that was all he could ask for.

" 'm sorry."

That on the other hand was unexpected.

"Why on earth? You haven't done anything wrong y'know?"

Chris groaned and sat up so that he could turn enough to look at him.

"But that's it. I can't do anything, I can't make you happy. I can't give you the one thing you've ever asked me for and that's not fair…"

James sighed. They'd had that discussion dozens of times already. Pulling Chris close again, he nuzzled his head and spoke in his hair.

"Man, I know as well as you know that it's nobody's fault. I can't un-fall for you as much as you can't un-do your empathy. It sucks, but it's life…"

Chris slowly relaxed into his arms. "It's still unfair… and it's unfair using the link to make me agree."

James smiled lopsidedly against Chris's hair and mumbled lowly.

"But it's better than using it to make you fall for me."

[the end]

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to [](http://dragons-rage598.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dragons-rage598.livejournal.com/)**dragons_rage598**, because she wanted something involving running and a Camero car.  
> And thanks to dropletsofblood for the beta.


End file.
